


Age of Apocalypse

by Destiny_Rain_Evans



Category: X Men, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Apocalypse, Apocalypse rules, Charles Always Says the Absolute Worst Thing He Could Possibly Say, Charles Being Concerned, Charles Is a Big Dorkface, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles You Slut, Charles You Will Be Drunk, Charles-centric, Cherik - Freeform, Erik Being Cocky, Erik Has Feelings, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik has Issues, Erik is a Sweetheart, F/M, Four Horsemen, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Hurt Charles, Jealous Erik, M/M, Poor Charles, Possessive Erik, Post-Apocalypse, Protective Erik, Smitten Erik, godfather charles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-08-30 01:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16755460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny_Rain_Evans/pseuds/Destiny_Rain_Evans
Summary: Apocalypse rules with his four horsemen over a dead world. Humans are reduced to the ghettos while mutants enjoy supremacy at last.  Charles Xavier, a telepath hiding in the human ghettos, is in love with a horseman which wouldn't be so difficult if Apocalypse wasn't after his power, and his sister wasn't the leader of humanity's only hope.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...story idea! I've actually been working on this for years. I edited it as best I could but if someone spouts an extra limb or something let me know XD.

“How much is this one?” Charles picked up an apple, “This one, with a bruise on its side, three?”

The vendor nodded. Charles put the apples he’d picked out into his basket with a relieved sigh. He didn’t want to be the one to tell Raven that the apple pie he had agreed to make for her baby shower had no apples in it. He paid the vendor, turning his attention back to the bustling market. What else did he need? Flour, definitely. He had used up the last of it the night before on biscuits for Kurt. Eggs? No, he couldn’t afford them. A pity really, he didn’t have anything to substitute them with either, and without something egg-like, the pie would be rather lacking. Not, Charles mused, that anyone would notice. No one in Raven’s group had so much as seen an egg.

Charles’ breath caught, a sharp flash of pain scattering his thoughts. The next moment he heard the crier, a mind hurtling down the street, panic oozing from it and infecting everything it passed. He heard the cry last. “The Pharaoh is coming!”

Charles stumbled as people rushed to the ground around him, bumping him back and forth. His feet buckled under him and he tumbled down with a pained cry, his back exploding in pain. He had to put his head down. At least make a semblance of a bow before–

“You!”

Charles blinked, trying to see through the pain as a guard stopped in front of him. “Bow before Apocalypse!”

Charles bit his bottom lip to keep from groaning as he leaned forward, trying to press his forehead against the ground. He wasn’t fast enough. The guard brought the flat of his spear down on Charles’ back, sending another wave of agony down his spine.

“What’s going on?”

Charles looked up, blinking away the pain. A man stood in front of him, dressed in red armor. His mind was impenetrable thanks to the irritating red helmet on his head. It was Erik Lehnsherr, one of four of Apocalypse’s most feared followers–the horsemen.

“He didn’t bow, my lord.” The guard growled, slamming the flat of his spear down on Charles back again. Charles groaned and looked up, catching Lensherr’s gaze before averting his eyes.

Lensherr’s eyes narrowed, “Then make him bow.” He raised his hand and Charles hissed in pain as he was dragged down to the ground.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that. It was only when the caravan was out of sight that the metal pinning him to the ground melted away, dissolving back into the dirt. It took him longer to stand, his back throbbing and threatening to lock up from being forced to bend so quickly. No one would look him in the eye, and he could hear their thoughts echoing through his head.

Tainted…Don’t look at him…Stay away, they might think you’re in league with the rebels.

Charles moved away slowly, trying to keep his balance as his feet dragged and shuffled against his will. It took him longer than he liked to get to the stall selling flour. The merchant didn’t spend a lot of time bargaining, wanting him gone before the guards returned. Charles didn’t mind. The faster he got home, the quicker he would be able to lie down and take some more of Hank’s meds.

Charles forced himself to rest outside the alley that led to his house. His back was aching too badly to continue. He put down his basket, leaning against a wall. A sharp pain that was not his own cut into Charles’ thoughts. Someone was crying ahead of him, grief pouring from them in waves. He looked up and saw them, two people sitting in the street. He could only feel one mind, the one of the crying boy. People passed by them, moving around as if they didn’t exist. 

“What happened?” Charles knelt down next to the boy, ignoring the agony tearing through his back. He could hear the boys thoughts, a mixture of grief and panic.

“They killed him!” The boy whispered, his eyes glazed over with shock. “I dropped my apple and it rolled in front of….it rolled in front of the coach. They…they thought my papa had…the girl…”

Charles could see it in the boy’s mind, the lightning coming down from the sky, the scream of agony, the charred stench of burnt flesh.

“What’s your name?” He asked quietly. 

“Everyone calls me Bobby,” The boy sniffed.

“Bobby,” Charles reached out with his power, sending a soothing wave of safety and comfort towards the boy. The boy looked up at him, the pain radiating off of him easing some. “Do you have anywhere else to go?”

The boy looked down at his father’s body, his pain sharpening again. “No,” he whispered, “it’s…just me now.”

“I have a friend named Raven, she has a child of her own, about your age. She can keep you safe until you get back on your feet. Do you want me to take you to her?”

Bobby looked up at him, his eyes narrowed and cautious. Charles could feel his suspicion and quickly sent a wave of soothing and calm towards him. He knew what would happen to the boy if he was left on the streets alone.

“Okay,” Bobby nodded, his forehead crinkling in confusion for a moment before clearing. “I’ll go with you…Mr…”

“Charles Xavier,” Charles held out his hand and Bobby took it, letting the telepath pull him to his feet. Charles wished they could give his father a proper burial, but as it was that had been loitering for too long. Much longer and the guards would come to see what the fuss was about.

Raven’s house wasn’t far from his own, deep in the confines of the ghetto. It was where all humans were placed, and Charles had known enough when they were being sorted to place him and Raven in the latter category. Being a human was much harder, but worth it. Charles knew what Apocalypse wanted, and both Raven and he were in danger should the pharaoh ever discover them.

Bobby walked quietly next to him most of the way, keeping pressed against Charles side as if he was terrified he would vanish. Charles tried to keep him calm with his ability, but there wasn’t much he could do against the raging torrent of the boy’s grief. 

“Now I live just around the corner. There.” Charles pointed as they passed by one of the more better off streets. “See that tree there? My house is right next to it. If you need anything, come over and I’ll see if I can help.”

Bobby nodded, pressing closer to Charles’ side. At this point, Charles knew he wouldn’t be able to walk for the next few days, but what was he to do? Leave the boy alone? No, better he was not able to walk than risk Bobby getting hurt again.

“This is it,” Charles stopped at the steps of Raven’s house. Bobby looked up at it curiously. It was one of the better houses, Raven and Azazel were merchants by trade and Azazel was registered as a mutant, allowing him certain benefits, though he’d sacrificed many of them by marrying a so-called human.

“Hello!”

Kurt grinned at him from the doorway, vanishing in a flash and reappearing with his arms wrapped around Charles’ neck. “Uncle Charles! Are you here for dinner?”

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” Charles smiled as he saw Bobby’s disconcerted expression. “Bobby, this is Kurt, Kurt, this is Bobby. He’s going to stay with you for a little bit.”

“Really?” Kurt brightened, “Do you like marbles? Papa’s been teaching me!” He held out his hand, showing three blue marbles cupped between his two blue fingers.

Bobby’s mind was racing with terror. Charles frowned, the boy didn’t seem terrified because Kurt was a mutant so much as….ah, he saw now. Carefully, Charles disentangled himself from Kurt and knelt down next to Bobby.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” He said softly, “I’m a mutant too, see? I can read your mind. Raven and Azazel are as well, they can show you how to manage your power, and trust me…” He added, sensing the boy’s fear, “Raven knows how to handle herself around dangerous mutations. She can help you.”

Bobby’s eyes were impossibly wide. Kurt was chattering on obliviously, as children tended to do, teleporting to the top of the stairs. Charles smiled. He could still hear Kurt talking inside the house. The child trusted him to listen, even if he was far away. Charles had placed a mind marker of sorts in Kurt’s mind so at any given point the child would know wherever he was. He had saved Raven and her husband more than a few sleepless nights when Kurt woke up with nightmares and teleported to Charles house to sleep next to him instead. It had caused more than a few awkward interactions between Kurt and whoever Charles significant other of the time had been. After all, most people didn’t take kindly to waking up and finding a wailing blue toddler in their bed screaming about monsters and quite possibly drooling. Those who had made a scene about it had promptly found themselves out on the street, and Charles had made it a point to both never invite them over again, and to remind Kurt that it was both prudent and polite to mentally knock, as he had taught him to do several times, before barging in.

“Charles?” Raven smiled as she came outside, a hand rested on her very pregnant belly, “Is this Bobby?” Obviously, Charles hadn’t been the only one listening to Kurt.

Charles nodded as Kurt teleported outside, chattering excitedly to his mother about playing marbles with Bobby.

“I do like marbles,” Bobby scuffled his feet against the ground, “could I come in Mrs. Raven?”

“Come in,” Raven smiled as she moved to the side, letting Kurt drag Bobby inside. She turned back to Charles with a decidedly less amicable look on her face. “Really Charles? Here?”

“I didn’t know who else could take care of him,” Charles stepped forward, “you will take care of him?”

Raven scoffed, looking away, “Of course I will! Is he a mutant?”

Charles nodded, “He can summon ice.” He groaned as he shifted from foot to foot, he had to get back home, quickly. Raven’s eyes softened. She walked down the steps, pulling him into a hug.

“I’ll take care of him, he’ll want for nothing. Just take care of yourself.”

Charles smiled tightly as Raven pulled back and made her way up the stairs, quickly patting a wisp of blond hair back into place. He sighed as he looked up, noting the stars starting to peek through the clouds. He still had to bake that pie.

On the nights the Pharaoh was inside his pyramid, the bell rang at nightfall, signaling the beginning of the curfew. The curfew was strictly enforced by the guards. If you were caught outside, they would kill you, or worse. Tonight, the Pharaoh was outside the walls of the city. Though there still was a curfew, most of the guards were with the Pharaoh, and could not enforce it. Hence, there was a sort of silent agreement between the guards and the people. If one was not overtly obvious about being outside, the guards would let them be. 

Charles eyed the steps up to his house warily. They were simple concrete, with no rail to lean on. Charles sighed. Get your head out of your ass, Xavier, else you’re going to be here all night. He flinched as he took the first step, then the next. One at a time. He groaned as a low throbbing began to form at the base of his spine, threatening to seize up and render him motionless. The fourth step was the last. Charles groaned with relief, stumbling to his door and yanking it open. 

“You’re late.”

Charles stumbled back in surprise. Erik lunged forward, seizing his flailing hands before he could fall and, according to Erik’s sharp thoughts, hurt himself further like the idiot he was. Erik jerked him forward, pulling him close so that he could wrap his arms further around him. 

“Did I hurt you?” He murmured, brushing his nose against Charles’ affectionately. “Why didn’t you bow?”

Charles pushed Erik away, moving past him into the kitchen. Erik closed the front door, trailing after him.

“I couldn’t bow.” Charles hissed as he eased himself into a chair, “Every bloody time that caravan passes if someone bumps into me, or my back is hurt, I can’t bow.”

Erik hummed, massaging his thumbs into the crook of Charles’ neck soothingly. Charles groaned, letting his head fall back against Erik’s stomach. He could hear Erik’s thoughts and emotions, worry, anger, fear, but overall contentment. He always felt like that whenever he came over, content. Charles was careful to stay at the edge of Erik’s mind. Erik had only taken off his helmet and actually trusted Charles when the telepath had sworn to never go past the surface of his thoughts.

“You should come with me to the palace,” Erik murmured once he had turned Charles into a malleable puddle under his hands. “Apocalypse would love your power, you could become one of his closest advisors.”

Charles sighed. This was not the first time they had talked about this. “And when Apocalypse decides it is not enough just to have another telepath? What then?”

“He wouldn’t take you,” Erik slid down to his knees and pressed a kiss to the side of Charles’ throat. “I would make it clear…” He nipped Charles slightly, making the telepath hiss, “You’re mine.”

“That might not stop him,” Charles pushed Erik back so he could stand, a pained groan escaping him, though the pain had eased some since Erik had begun working his magic, “I need to bake the pie.”

“You’re in no condition to move about!” Erik said sharply. Charles arched an eyebrow at him. Honestly, they’d only been dating for a few months. If anyone else had tried that…

Erik didn’t back down, instead matching his gaze. “I’ll bake the pie.”

“Erik…” Charles didn’t want to insult him, but he wasn’t exactly sure about Erik’s cooking abilities.

“I can bake a pie, Charles,” Erik waved him off. “Go upstairs!”

Charles smiled as Erik’s thoughts broadcasted across the room. Apparently, it was a matter of pride and his safety. Erik wasn’t going to budge. “If you’re sure…” Charles said teasingly. 

“Go upstairs!” Erik growled, grabbing the basket off of the kitchen table. “I’ll be up as soon as I finish.”

Charles smiled as he turned away. “Could you heat up the pipes for me, love?” He called. The groaning of the pipes was his only answer. 

Charles was very lucky to have indoor plumbing. Erik had installed it one day when he had woken up and grumpily discovered that the only way to take a bath was by walking a whole half mile to the pump and bringing the water back bucket by bucket. Charles was actually very lucky to have his house at all. It was one of the best in the area. He had poured most of his inheritance into it. It had two stories, the upper story being solely the bedroom, while the downstairs was a small kitchen. Charles had only just been able to fit a small couch in the corner and whenever Raven asked him to take care of Kurt, he made him a bed there. In between the two stories, accessible from the stairwell, was a small bathroom with a metal tub (also, Erik installed) that Charles loved to bathe in, even when Erik wasn’t there and the water was freezing cold.

Charles smiled as he got into the bathroom and saw the steaming hot bath. He could hear Erik banging around downstairs and, figuring the metalbender wouldn’t be done for a while, he eagerly slid into the bath.

Charles must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he woke up the water was tepid and Erik was sliding into the bath next to him, sending water splashing everywhere. 

“Your pie is downstairs,” Erik mumbled, pressing a tired kiss to Charles’ lips. The annoying itch of truenottrue rang through Charles’ head, but he pushed it away. It was pie for god’s sake, what could be the harm of lying about pie?

“Thank you,” Charles purred, leaning forward and giving Erik a kiss, the kind he knew the mutant liked with lots of tongue and teeth. Erik groaned and surged forward, pinning Charles against the tub and sloshing water everywhere. 

“Erik!” Charles hissed as Erik kissed his neck and nipped it, deepening the already dark bruise there. “Erik, there’s a perfectly suitable bed upstairs…”

Erik grumbled in annoyance as he pulled back and rose from the tub, giving Charles a wonderful view. The view was spoiled, however, when Erik leaned down and plucked Charles from the tub as if he were a child. Charles yelped and wiggled uncomfortably in his grasp. Erik chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he carried him up the stairs, kicking open the bedroom door. 

“You’re a brute,” Charles said scoldingly as Erik threw him down on the bed. 

“Yes,” Erik gave him a toothy grin, “You’re brute.” He then proceeded to attempt to seduce his way back into Charles good graces, which he did, fantastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta Da!!!! What do you think? Should I continue with it? Is Erik EVIL??? IS STORM EVIL??? iS BOBBY SECREtlY EVIL??? Apocalypse is definitely an asshole. Remember: Comments. Kudos. Author Cocaine. I'm just saying. Definitely more likely to update if I know people like it. XD Anyway, hope you have a good week!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt has a nightmare. Erik's shirt gets gooed on. Bobby has some telepathic help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your wonderful feedback! Here is the next chapter! As always, let me know if you see any spelling errors or anything :)

Something was ringing. Charles opened his eyes, grimacing at the bright moonlight that poured in through the window. The sound was soft but high pitched, and he quickly followed it back to Kurt. It was a trick he had learned. Making things corporeal inside his head made it easier to work with them. He pictured it like a row of bells, each one with a string connected to a loved one. There were three bells at the top, Kurt, Azazel, and Raven (Azazel less for Charles sake, and more for Raven’s. Charles had been used as a telepathic phone more than once when things with the resistance had gone bad). Underneath was Moira’s, a kind human woman he had dated once and still considered his friend. Under that, trapped in a metal box, was Erik’s. Charles had gotten his permission first, and had buried the string so deep in Erik’s mind that it took a real emergency for Erik to find it. He had taken such precautions because of Jean Grey and Emma Frost, Apocalypse’s favorite telepaths. Erik had told him they attended to everyone’s minds regularly, to make sure there were no thoughts of deceit or mistrust. Luckily, Erik had been raised with Emma and knew enough to hide Charles from them. 

The bell rang insistently, demanding a reply. “Yes, Darling,” Charles sat up, “You can come over.” 

Kurt appeared in an instant, blue eyes filled with tears. Charles held out his arms invitingly. Kurt scrambled forward into them, burying his face in the soft cloth of Charles’ nightshirt. Charles held him close, willing wave after wave of comfort, love, and safety over him. The nightmare had been bad, about his father and mother abandoning him. Charles didn’t know why Kurt had such deep fears of being left alone, Raven had always made sure that Kurt always had someone to go to if he needed. Nevertheless, the nightmares weren’t uncommon and Charles took special care to project feelings of love to the little nightcrawler, making sure he felt safe. 

“Is it that child again?” Erik groaned, sitting up. Kurt held his little hands out to Erik, asking to be held. Erik smiled and scooted closer, allowing Kurt to teleport into his arms. “Did you have more nightmares?” 

“They left,” Kurt sniffed, “they left me alone and I...I was alone.” 

Erik smiled softly, “It’s scary being alone, isn’t it?” He murmured. Kurt nodded and sniffed again, wiping his nose on Erik’s shirt. “But you have Charles,” Erik touched Kurt’s shoulder, “and you have me, and your mother and father aren’t going anywhere.” 

Kurt nodded and sniffed again, crawling back into Charles’ lap. “I’m gonna go home now,” he whispered, “thanks, Uncle Charles.” 

Charles nodded, smiling softly. Kurt vanished, leaving only the slight smell of sulfur to show he was there. Erik grumbled and shoved his face back into Charles’ side. Charles’ rested his hand on Erik’s head, winding a soothing whisper of sleep through his mind. Erik smiled, a low, pleased sound escaping his lips as he curled up next to Charles. 

<>

The clash of five pots coming down onto the floor was not a comfortable way to wake up. Charles lunged from the bed and down the stairs, immobilizing the two attackers with his power. Robbers weren’t uncommon here…

“Raven?” 

He stopped at the foot of the stairs. She was standing in the kitchen with Azazel, sheepishly holding two pots. His shock broke the connection. Raven put the pots onto the counter, frowning at him. She was blue, Charles noted, and no doubt Erik had heard the clash as well. 

“Turn blond! Now!” He hissed. She shot him a confused look, but in a flash she was pale again, her blond hair falling around her face in waves. 

“Charles!” Erik shouted, appearing at the top of the stairwell. It had taken him an extra moment to wave off Charles’ compulsion to sleep, but he was alert now, every metal instrument in the room aimed at Raven and her husband. 

“It’s okay!” Charles called, “They’re my friends! Kurt’s parents!” 

Raven stared at Erik, terror sparking from her so intensely that Charles had to throw up shields lest he become victim to it. When Charles said Kurt’s name that terror spiked into white-hot rage. 

“Oh,” Erik smiled sheepishly and the knives and dishes began putting themselves back into their places. “Sorry, I thought you were robbers.” 

Raven kept her face carefully blank. “Charles can take care of himself,” she said stiffly. 

“I’m well aware,” Erik pinched the bridge of his nose, still struggling against Charles’ compulsion. “However, I’m not entirely convinced that he wouldn’t simply give the thieves anything of value and let them walk off down the street with it.” 

Raven’s lip twitched before she could stop it, quietly thinking that that sounded _exactly_ like something Charles would do.

“Why are you here?” Charles interrupted irritably. He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation he would be having with Raven later. 

“Nevermind,” Raven said coldly, “I didn’t know you were...entertaining.” 

Which was bullshit. Charles had invited a significant other of some sort over most nights of the week for years, except when he knew Raven was coming over, or in this case, when Erik couldn’t come over. In reality, she didn’t want to say anything in front of Erik. 

“I’ll head back to bed,” Erik nodded upstairs, sensing he was the cause of the thick atmosphere. 

“I’ll be up in a minute,” Charles said, already moving toward Raven. Once Erik was gone, he lowered his voice and hissed, “Why are you here?”

“Bobby was having nightmares all night,” Raven hissed back, her eyes flashing angrily, “I was just going to have Azazel teleport over, and because I knew you probably had your pick of the month upstairs, I asked him to take me downstairs. I thought you could come over and soothe him before he freezes the whole house over!” 

Charles drew back, “How bad is it?” He asked, letting Azazel take his hand. 

His insides felt like they were being turned inside out. His head spun for a moment as nausea threatened to climb up his stomach. Then the feeling was gone and he was standing in a very cold living room. He could see ice crawling up the walls and he quickly sent out strings of thought, looking for Bobby.

“Mr. Xavier!” Bobby wailed, running into the room and wrapping his arms around Charles’ knees. 

“This is what your boyfriend does to people,” Raven hissed under her breath. Charles shot her an acidic look, gently picking Bobby up. 

“May I?” He wiggled his fingers next to his head and Bobby nodded. 

Charles sighed as he dove into Bobby’s mind. He opened his eyes to the inside of a small house, grander than what Charles would expect. The walls were plastered, the furniture second hand but of quality. The area was dark, heavy with grief and fear. Charles took a step forward, hissing as something small grazed his face. He squinted at it, but couldn’t make out the shape, and he didn’t dare touch it lest he hurt Bobby accidentally. Charles raised his hand, closing his eyes. When he opened them, a light was shining softly from his hand, illuminating thousands of ice crystals hanging from the ceiling, each shining a different color. Charles saw the memory he wanted immediately. It was tiny but vivid red, the color leaching onto the other crystals around it. Often pain from one memory could spread, but once he dulled the original pain the rest eased as well. He had learned that well enough from Erik. 

Charles slowly moved toward the crystal, taking his time to watch where he stepped lest he accidentally break something important. Most memories could take a beating, again something he had learned from Erik, but he wasn’t sure about Bobby’s. They looked so...delicate. 

He reached out, grasping the red ice crystal in his hand. It warbled nervously, and began trembling. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Charles whispered, drawing his hand over it. He had learned quickly that through drawing the pain into himself was effective, it was not prudent for either him or Bobby. Instead, he touched the ice crystal with his glowing hand, pressing calm and love against the fear and grief. The light in his hand turned a gentle blue, streaks of it brushing up against the crystal. The pain would always be there, but Charles could ease it a little bit at least. The crystal flickered, turning a gentle purple. Charles turned, noting the other crystals returning to their own colors. He let the crystal fall from his hand, watching as it bounced slightly on its string before returning to stillness. 

Charles opened his eyes. They hurt, everything hurt. He must have spent too much time in Bobby’s mind. He looked down, smiling as he saw Bobby snoring gently. 

“Here,” Charles handed him to Raven. She took him without fuss. 

Azazel held out his hand and Charles took it. He had to get back to Erik before the horseman decided to look for him himself. 

A moment of mind-numbing agony later, Charles was in his house. Azazel paused, looking up the stairs at the door to Charles’ bedroom. “I don’t know you well,” he said, his voice thick and accented. Charles jerked in surprise, he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard Azazel speak. Azazel gave him a withering look, “Be careful of the horseman,” he said, “Raven would be sad if you died.” And with that, he was gone. 

Charles smiled. That was as close to worried as he had ever seen Azazel. Then again, he obviously loved Raven. If he hadn’t Charles would never have condoned the marriage. Not that Raven would have stopped it at his word, she was pig headed that way. 

“Did you deal with the issue?” Erik lounged on the bed, his eyes glittering in the moonlight streaming in through the window.

Charles smiled as pushed open the bedroom door. “How did you know I was here?”

Erik hummed, rolling over on the bed, “I heard you and the teleporter talking. 

There it was again, that annoying buzz of truthnottruth. Charles sighed, it could wait until the morning. He collapsed on the bed, curling in close to Erik. Erik smiled, sliding his arm around Charles' shoulders and pressing close against him. 

“Does your back still hurt?” 

Charles shrugged. “It’ll hurt for a few days, but the bath and the massage helped quite a bit-thank you for that, by the way. I’ll probably be able to walk tomorrow.”

Sleep tugged at him and he gave into it willingly, knowing Erik would be awake for some time, watching for any more intruders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go :) Hope you guys are having a wonderful holiday season!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the very late chapter! Extra long as an apology for my lateness :) As always, if you notice any errors please let me know.

“You broke it!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

Charles groaned as the argument continued behind him. Honestly, how long could they continue arguing about one wooden cup? The headache he had awoken with had only worsened since morning. It hadn’t helped that Erik had been gone for the last month on some mission for Apocalypse. At least Charles had figured out one of the truthnottruths from that night. The pie had been beautiful, with hundreds of thin slices of candied apples layered together to create an almost flower-like appearance. The pie itself was a wonderful brown and smelled delicious, nothing that Charles or Erik could make with what was in the kitchen. Indeed, in the trash, Charles had found remnants of burnt, thick dough. Poor Erik had probably tried to bake the pie and, upon failing that, gone to the palace kitchens and made the cook bake one for him. Charles wouldn’t be telling Raven that though, he knew how she felt about all things Erik. When he had gone to pick up Bobby and Kurt for the day, she hadn’t let him hear the end of it until Azazel had insisted they needed to go.

“I’ll buy you both a new cup,” Charles cut in as the argument escalated to pushing.

“Really?” Kurt brightened, forgetting the fight instantly, “Can it be brown? Like my old one?”

“We’ll see what’s available,” Charles smiled tensely, trying to ignore the sharp throbbing in his temple.

“Mr. Xavier,” Bobby held out his arms. “Could you carry me?”

“Me too! Me too!” Kurt demanded, his voice sharp and shrill.

Charles flinched. “Ah, not right this moment, maybe when we get home?”

Kurt pouted, kicking at a nearby rock. “Mr. Erik would carry me,” he muttered sulkily. Erik had told him to call him that after they had figured out that Kurt couldn’t pronounce Lensherr if his life depended on it.

Charles flushed, remembering how Erik had picked him up and carried him up the stairs. “That’s not surprising,” he stopped them outside of the antique dealer’s stall, “Erik is very strong.”

Bobby brightened, “Oh! Mr. Xavier!” He ran forward and seized a small wooden cup from a table full of wooden bowls and cutlery. Kurt beamed and ran forward, grabbing a small metal cup from an adjacent table full of metal goods.

“Mr. Erik could make this into something better for me!” Kurt ran over and held the cup up to Charles, “Like he did for you with the bathtub!”

Charles flushed as he looked down at the small tin cup. It was good most people knew Erik as Magneto, he thought, else he would be getting far more than a few curious looks right now.

“I’ll ask him,” Charles fondly fluffed Kurt’s hair. Honestly, Erik liked Kurt so much he would probably make him a set of dishes and silverware to match if the child asked.

“Who’s Mr. Erik?” Bobby asked, clutching the wooden cup against his chest.

“Uncle Charles--” Charles shushed Kurt, looking around worriedly. Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying much attention to them. Same-sex relations were frowned upon at best.

“My friend,” he smiled at Bobby, “is that the cup you want, dear?”

The cups were teeth-grindingly expensive, but Charles didn’t mind. With his job at the hospital, he could afford to splurge sometimes, and what better way to spend a little extra money than on the two children?

He felt the panic before he heard the call and he quickly grabbed Bobby, pulling him close as he dropped into a bow. Kurt huddled next to him as the crier passed, dropping into his own bow, with his tail tucked between his legs. He still had a scar from where a guard had almost cut it off for sticking in the air.

Charles hushed Bobby as the child began whimpering. The caravan was upon them now, passing slowly as the guards cleared the way ahead of them. Charles could feel Erik’s mind, but...something was wrong. It was...blank. Emotionless.

Then came Emma Frost. Charles could feel her ruffling through the mind of everyone near them as if searching for something. He quickly shielded from her, hoping she wouldn’t be able to sense his powers. He had never actually blocked his mind from another telepath before. She stopped at his mind and he froze.

_Charles…_

Her voice was a low purr, cutting through his shields.

_Charles Xavier...come to the Pyramid by sunset today._

Then her mind was gone.

Charles waited until they were gone before rising to his feet. He was under no illusions about why she had summoned him. Erik’s empty mind, Emma’s words...they’d been discovered.

Bobby was crying, his face buried in Charles’ shirt. Charles hushed him, rubbing his back as he rose to his feet with only a slight stiffness to his movements.

“Is Bobby gonna be okay, Uncle Charles?” Kurt asked, grabbing Bobby’s cup from where it had fallen on the ground. Charles adjusted Bobby onto his hip and reached down with one hand, letting Kurt grasp it.

“What happened?” Were Raven’s first words when she saw Charles at the door.

“He wanted to come back,” Charles sighed as he made his way laboriously up the steps. “I’ll stay so Azazel and you can continue working.”

“No,” Raven sighed, “It’s okay. I’m done writing for today, and Azazel can man the shop by himself.”

Charles sat down on the small couch, gently putting Bobby down next to him with a sharp groan. Kurt jumped up next to him, his tail thrashing back and forth nervously as he held the cup out to Bobby.

Bobby smiled weakly as he took it. He had fallen asleep once Charles had agreed to take him back to Raven’s house. His eyes were puffy and red, and he kept squeezing them open and closed as if they hurt him.

“Apocalypse’s caravan passed while we were at the market.” Charles turned to Raven, “There was nothing I could do.”

Raven rested a hand on her swollen stomach. “What happened?”

Charles smiled tightly. She knew him too well. “Erik...his mind was blank, and the telepath was searching for me. Emma Frost? She demanded I go to the pyramid at sundown.”

“Charles!” Raven gasped and he looked at her in surprise. She almost sounded excited.

“You know what this means?” She grabbed his arm sharply. “Erik is bringing you to the palace! You can shield your mind from the other telepaths! The rebellion can finally have an inside man!”

Charles recoiled, yanking his arm from her grasp. “Don’t you dare drag me into this!” He lowered his voice, noting the children looking at them curiously. “I have no intention of going to live in the palace. I’ll break up with Erik if I have to.” He didn’t know how true the words were, Erik had become very dear to him, but he sincerely hoped that if push came to shove, he could do it rather than be forced to live in that cursed place with _Apocalypse_ of all people.

“Charles!” Raven hissed but he was already turning away.

“I’ll see you tonight, Raven.”

The pyramid was in the very center of the town. A hundred soldiers guarded its entrance, all mutants armed to the teeth and trained in deadly combat. Charles didn’t look at them as he stepped through the entrance. He only stated his name and why he was there.

“Charles?”

A shiver ran down Charles' spine as he saw her. Emma Frost. She was bedecked in white furs, though she showed more skin than clothes. Her smile was sharp, like the cutting edge of diamonds.

“Good, I’m glad you remembered. I would hate to have had to send the guards to your house, they can be rather...catastrophic.” Charles began to bow but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “No need for that,” she smiled that sharp smile again, “Erik would have me killed if I let you injure yourself further for propriety.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Charles straightened, stiffening in surprise as Emma wound her arm around his.

“Call me Emma,” She said, leading him forward down a highly lit corridor. “I must admit, I was quite surprised when I saw you in Erik’s mind. After the death of his family,” at this, her eyes narrowed upon him, as if to gauge his reaction, “I wouldn’t have thought he would take another.” Charles kept his face blank as she continued. He already knew about Erik’s family. Emma prattled on, seemingly oblivious, though Charles knew better. “And a bigger surprise yet, you are an untrained telepath, who managed to hide himself in Erik’s mind from me! You must know Lord Apocalypse was overjoyed to hear that his horseman had found someone, he had worried for Erik so.”

She turned them down another corridor, this one much less lit. Charles stiffened as he felt the brush of another telepath against his mind.

“Don’t mind Jean,” Emma looked down at her nails, “she was just curious. We all wanted to know what made you so special.”

“Special?” Charles queried, fear nearly choking him.

“Lord Apocalypse wanted to take your body as his own, once it was discovered you were such a powerful male telepath” Emma sighed, “Nasty business, but necessary for our king to evolve. He doesn’t like to possess female forms, you see, and your telepathy was very interesting to him. Erik stopped him quite...expressively. He nearly brought down the whole castle before Jean and I stopped him.”

“Stopped him?” Charles asked sharply.

Emma smiled, “Surely you noticed,” she said cheerfully, “I had to wipe his mind, he’s only just recovering of it now.”

Charles jerked away from her, his head spinning. What did that mean? Had Erik forgotten everything? Had...Charles frowned. Had Erik forgotten him? “Wipe his mind?” He echoed.

Emma sighed, seeming unfazed. “Yes, Charles, wipe his mind.”

Charles gritted his teeth together, biting back against the hard lump in his throat and the panic coursing through him. He would not give her more leverage against him by showing how he really felt. “Why am I here?” He demanded sharply.

“As much as Lord Apocalypse wants your powers, he does love Erik,” Emma held her arm out to him. “He ordered that you be brought here, as a gift to him.”

Charles felt horror well up within him, “A gift?” He whispered. A gift implied slavery. A gift implied chains. The scars on his wrist’s burned. He rubbed them gently, ignoring Emma’s curious look.

“Yes, a gift,” Emma smiled, “shall we?”

Charles took her arm numbly, walking next to her though everything screamed at him to run. He knew they would find him, and then they would find those he loved too. Well, those he loved that were left. He wanted to use his powers to reach into the box with Erik’s bell and trace the thread back to his mind, to see if it the thread was even still there, but he didn’t dare, not with Frost standing next to him.

They turned another corner and ahead Charles could see a room full of opulent gold and colored cloths. Emma stopped him before he passed over the threshold.

“Let me make something clear,” she whispered, “you are the property of Apocalypse, as are we all, but more importantly, you are Erik’s to do with as he pleases. If you disobey, both are free to punish you as they wish.”

They stood there for a moment, and it occurred to Charles that she wanted some form of acknowledgment from him. He nodded sharply.  She smiled, “Good.”

The room was empty for all but five people. Charles recognized all of them. There were two to the right of the throne, Storm and Angel, and one to the right, Psylocke. In the throne itself was Apocalypse. Charles had seen him before, during his speeches, though he usually wore a headdress of gold over his face. His eyes flickered to the one in front of the throne. Erik. He was kneeling before it, dressed in full battle armor with his helmet in his hands.

“I have a gift for you,” Apocalypse gestured to Charles. “I thought it would be pleasing after your ordeal.”

Erik rose to his feet, turning to look at Charles. There was no recognition in his eyes, no familiarity. Charles looked down at his feet, as was appropriate when meeting a horseman. Erik moved forward until he was standing in front of Charles.

“Charles.”

His voice was cold. Charles swallowed nervously. “Yes, Erik?” He flinched as Erik snarled.

“My lord.” Each syllable was full of venom.

“Yes?” Charles raised his chin sharply, glaring at Erik. “My Lord?”

Erik’s lips curved maliciously and Charles felt his heart flutter in his chest. He had only once seen Erik truly violent. Charles had been attacked by a group of humans. They had pushed him to the ground and beat him until he immobilized them with his power. When he had come back to his house, beaten and bloody, Erik had left the house immediately, though Charles had pleaded with him to leave it alone, they were just angry kids after all, and no permanent harm had been done.

Charles looked away as the images of their mangled bodies flashed through his mind. They had found them the next day outside the walls of the city. Charles had never asked, Erik had never said anything about it, but always since Charles had been careful not to mention any problem he had with humans. It was too much of a risk.

“Your generosity is always gracious, my lord.” Erik turned back to Apocalypse. “Thank you.”

“Anything for one of my favorite followers,” Apocalypse waved his hand and two slaves came in, carrying a metal box laden with jewels. “This is to complete the gift. Xavier is a telepath, after all, and I thought these would be useful in controlling him.”

One of the slaves held out the box to Erik. Erik frowned as the lid of the box rose in the air. Inside were a pair of metal bracelets, inlaid with rubies and engraved with Erik’s symbol, that blasted helmet.

Charles jerked back against the door, away from those things. Erik turned to him, the bracelets in his hand. Charles gasped as something brushed his neck. It was metal, he realized, a long vine had grown from the metal of the door behind him and wrapped around his throat.

“Erik, please,” he gasped as it tightened. “Please don’t do this!”

Erik paused, his eyes narrowing. He growled softly and Charles flinched as the vine caressed his skin. There was a painful pause as Charles met Erik’s unflinching gaze.  He was sure he was talking, saying something about not needing the bracelets. Erik’s expression never changed, even as he turned back to the box, placing the bracelets back inside it. Charles sagged against the wall as the metal vine slid off his neck and vanished back into the door. It took him a moment to realize that the entire room was silent. Even Emma seemed to have paused.

“I thank you for the gift, my lord.” Erik dropped into a deep bow. “If I need them, rest assured, the slave will not go a day without them.”

Apocalypse nodded, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. Erik smiled at Charles again, that malicious, evil smile. Charles avoided his eyes. “Come then, servant, my quarters are this way.” The door opened outward with a flick of his wrist, sending Charles tumbling back onto the hallway floor. Charles flinched as Erik moved past him, his cloak gently brushing against his exposed calf. Charles yanked the hem of his pants down.

“Thank you,” He gasped, pushing himself off the floor and stumbling after Erik. His stomach twisted in disgust. He was thanking Erik for not putting chains on him. How...sick. What happened to Erik? Charles’ boyfriend would never let himself hurt Charles outside of willing bedplay. As for that..well. Erik’s powers didn’t only come on a destruction setting. Charles shook his head, that was definitely not something he should be thinking about now.

Erik didn’t look back at him as they moved through the pyramid. Honestly, there were so many hallways Charles would have been lost if not for Erik’s mind supplying directions involuntarily as he walked. They reached the end of the hallway, a golden set of double doors made of what Charles was sure was metal. Erik waved his hand and the doors opened, confirming Charles suspicion.

“Let there be no confusion,” Erik brushed into the room, leaving Charles to trail warily in behind him. “Lord Apocalypse provides servants to clean my quarters, and any other use I deem necessary. However, I can’t simply have you idling around my chambers.” He paused as the doors shut. Charles hissed as he heard the low baritone of Erik’s bell ring. _Is anyone listening?_

Charles sighed, sending a small ball of energy racing through the room and the hallways beyond. The closest mind he could feel was a servant, and they were far from Erik’s room.

Charles shook his head, looking back at Erik. Relief flickered in Erik’s eyes and he stepped forward warily, holding his hands out to Charles in an invitation. Charles took it, stumbling forward and crushing himself against the hard plates of Erik’s armor. “What’s going on?” He whispered, “Why am I here?”

Erik groaned, burying his face in Charles’ hair. “Emma heard your name in my head.  She wanted to know more, and your barriers were no match for her.”

“What on earth were you thinking about?” Charles sighed, pressing a kiss to Erik’s neck.

Erik’s breath caught, “Several things. She wiped me until Apocalypse could decide what to do. My lord should not have been so upset. I would never betray him, and you are loyal. I just need to pretend that you don’t mean as much to me as they do until they grow to see you as I see you.” Erik ducked his head and pressed his lips against Charles. Charles moaned, tipping his head up so he could achieve a better angle.

“I need to get back to my sister,” he whispered, pulling back enough to break the kiss. “Am I allowed to return home?”

“Charles,” Erik stroked a hand through his hair, “you must stay here. Apocalypse does not trust you because I kept you from him.”

“But...Kurt and Bobby!” Charles protested.

“They can survive without you,” Erik rested his forehead against Charles. “Please. Charles.”

Charles blinked, reaching out to gently brush his own mind against Erik’s. Erik flinched, but didn’t push him out.

_I’m never going to be able to go back home,_ Charles realized as he looked over Erik’s thoughts. _Apocalypse will never let me go._

“I…” He drew back, “Where will I sleep?”

“I can prepare some rooms for you, if you prefer...” Erik ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Charles smiled. He didn’t need to read minds to know what Erik had been thinking. “Or I could sleep with you.”

Erik relaxed, a relieved smile flickering over his lips, “I would prefer that,” he said sheepishly.

Charles stepped back, his lips trembling with the effort of keeping a smile in place. “At least tell me there is tea in this place.”

Erik laughed, turning away and moving towards two bronze double doors Charles assumed to be the kitchen. “I’ll find something.”

As soon as the doors closed Charles collapsed against the nearest chair, resting his head in his arms uncertainly.

“Raven,” he whispered, taking her bell in his hand and tugging on its string gently. “Raven, I can’t talk long. I’m being kept here. Help me.” He dropped the bell as the door opened and Erik came out, holding a steaming cup of what Charles desperately hoped was tea.

“I hope you like chamomile,” Erik held it out to him and Charles took it with a small grin.

“I do actually, it’s good for settling the nerves and goodness knows I need that right now.”

Erik’s lips twitched downward, but he said nothing except, “I’ll call for the palace healer, perhaps he could do something for your back.”

“Perhaps,” Charles cupped the tea against his chest, relishing in the soft warmth. “Are you sure there is no way to go back to my home?” He let no voice of treason or threat of running enter his voice. He might have been able to persuade Erik at his own house to free him, to break the rules, but here in the seat of Erik's master, there was no hope he would help Charles against Apocalypse's wishes.

“No,” Erik’s lips pressed into a sharp line as he spoke, his tone was harsh, sharp almost. Charles let the subject drop, instead turning his attention out the window.

Erik sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Would it be such a stretch to be happy here? In the seat of luxury? You could have apple pie every night, and there would be no need to hide it. You would be mine, and no one could harm you. You wouldn’t have to live in fear of humans--” Erik broke off and Charles turned his head to look curiously.

“I have no fear of humans,” he said softly, “they are naive, and afraid, they need help and education on the ways of mutants. And as for the rest, I’ve had my family taken from me, my friends, my life. No things or power could ever replace that, and I would know. I’d much rather be curled up in my own bed with you and Kurt, than live in this desolate place another minute.”

Erik said nothing and a disappointed, almost pained silence filled the space between them, though Charles tried to pay no mind to it. He looked up as a soft ringing filled his mind, Raven’s bell. _I’m coming…Wait for me._ He smiled, his heart swelling with hope.

“Well, no use dwelling on the past,” he put down his tea and stood, holding a hand out to Erik. “Show me your rooms? I’ve heard you keep a torture chamber down here, or was it a harem full of a thousand women? I can never remember.”

Erik snorted, though a soft smile played along the edge of his lips as he reached up and slid his own hand into Charles’. “The torture chamber first then?” He asked and Charles grinned.

“Depends, got anything fun down there?”

Erik’s smirk widened playfully, “Maybe a rebel or two.”

Charles hummed, reaching over and sliding open one of the clips for Erik’s armor, “Sounds boring, I have a much better idea.”

“Do you?” Erik leaned down and kissed him softly, tugging him gently against his chest.

Raven’s bell rang through Charles mind again and he smiled.

_Wait for me…_ it echoed, _I’ll be there soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear. Is Raven going to be able to save Charles? More importantly, _should_ she save Charles? What was Erik thinking about when Emma caught him? *wiggles eyebrows* XD. Was Emma all you hoped? I hope to have more fun with the horsemen later. To be clear, Emma and Jean aren't horsemen, Apocalypse just keeps them high in his court so they can rat out traitors. Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments!!!! They make me so happy. I can't even tell you. They're like little sparks of joy in my inbox. I hope you are having a wonderful holiday season and that you enjoyed the chapter!


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